


the in-betweens

by downmoon



Series: the family album [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Deaf Character, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Sign Language, family au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2018-11-17 13:28:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11276235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/downmoon/pseuds/downmoon
Summary: a collection of snippets and one shots in the family album verse





	1. breakfast in bed

**Author's Note:**

> i've written a couple of one shots within the family album verse, and have decided to collect them in one spot. it's not necessary to read the entire family album series, but there will definitely be some nods to those works!

It’s silent when he wakes up.

Which would be an absolutely gorgeous way to start the morning, if they didn’t have a five and almost-five-year-old in the house.

Suga learned long ago that silence at any other time besides napping and sleeping meant _mischief_ , and Shouyou’s slow influence on Tobio was starting to show itself more prevalently lately. Two little ones and a noiseless morning spells nothing but trouble.

He groans when he drags himself out of bed, his head aching with another too-late night. Maybe the boys are still sleeping. Maybe they’re just playing quietly in their room. Maybe-

He steps on two legos in the hallway, kicks one of Tobio’s trucks, and finds a plastic cup with juice stains on the rim behind the lily, but still, silence.

It makes him nervous.

Suga rubs his eyes against the sunlight in the living room. The empty living room. Toys are scattered like they usually are, and a couple of his reference books have been dragged out of his office, but there are no little children in sight. He even ducks down the hallway leading to their room, but both beds are empty.

He’s still standing in front of the boys’ room, his sleep-fogged brain trying to process what exactly has happened, when he hears a clatter from the kitchen.

_Daichi must know_ , he thinks to himself. He steps on another loose lego and grits his teeth to keep himself from erupting with a stream of curses. Now he’s certainly awake.

“Be careful, Shouyou. Don’t spill it.”

“I _know_ , I can do it!”

“Alright, alright.”

Suga peeks around the doorframe of the kitchen, and finds Daichi supervising what looks like a very careful breakfast assembly. Shouyou pours juice into a glass, his tongue sticking out as he concentrates on his efforts. Daichi’s hand is clasped over Tobio’s, the two of them scooping rice into a bowl. 

“I’m done, Dai-chan!” Shouyou says, as he slowly sets the carton of juice down on the counter, and slides himself off his chair. Suga tries to tuck himself out of sight behind the doorframe, but Shouyou whips around too quickly, and squawks when he sees him.

“Suga-chan!” he says, bolting forward and wrapping his little arms around Suga’s legs. He seems to change his mind, however, and pulls away almost immediately.

“We were gonna bring you breakfast in bed!” he says, his face wrinkled in pint-sized anger.

“Oh,” Suga says, dumbfounded.

Shouyou darts back into the kitchen, pointing towards the tray on the counter. Suga catches Daichi’s gaze, when he steps into the kitchen, the smug smile on his face. Tobio stares at him with wide eyes, bits of rice stuck to his cheeks and his fingers.

“Good morning,” Daichi says, Tobio echoing his father, “Seems you ruined our surprise.”

“Oh dear.”

Shouyou had shoved his chair up against the cupboards, and plucked the flower from the vase on the tray, holding it out to Suga as soon as his feet had hit the floor again.

“Suga-chan, look!  Tobio picked it from the garden. I poured the juice, and I didn’t spill it.”

Shouyou pulls Suga towards the tray, fist wrapped in the hem of Suga’s shirt, clambering back up into his chair to point out everything that’s on the tray. Tobio slips out from Daichi’s arms and presses himself against Suga’s leg, until Suga picks him up and listens as he interjects Shouyou’s excitement. And then Shouyou wants to be picked up, and the boys launch into a squabble, until Daichi scoops him up and lifts him until he squeals.

They decide on shared breakfast at the kotatsu, on the _fancy_ plates, because the _fancy_ plates are much more interesting than breakfast on a tray. Suga wipes rice off Tobio’s face, and kisses his clean cheek, kisses Shouyou’s cheek when he demands one as well, and kisses Daichi when the boys aren’t looking.

“You’re too sweet,” he murmurs.

“I know.”

Suga laughs, and swats at his chest, stealing another kiss.


	2. an injury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is a mention of blood in this chapter; please be aware!

**To: Suga chan** **(๑•̀ㅂ•́)** و **✧**

**2:04 pm**

_tobio chan hates me_

_(っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ_

**From: Suga chan** **(๑•̀ㅂ•́)** و **✧**

**2:06 pm**

_stop being such an ass then_

**To: Suga chan** **(๑•̀ㅂ•́)** و **✧**

**2:06 pm**

_（ｉДｉ）_

Tooru was only half joking in his text, but when he looks up from his phone, Tobio is staring him down, with a tremendous frown on his face.

“Are you ill?” Tooru asks. Tobio shakes his head.

“Your face just looks that way all the time, then?” Tobio nods slowly.

“Tobio-chan’s _always_ grumpy,” Shouyou pipes up. Tobio finally breaks his long stare with Tooru and turns towards Shouyou’s seat on the floor, only to smash his stuffed animal over Shouyou’s head.

“Hey, _hey!”_ Tooru says, “ no hitting allowed!”

Shouyou leaps up from his sprawl across the rug, a war cry tearing out of his mouth and his fists poised to hit. Tooru does what any responsible adult would do in this situation; he panics.

He dives forward and seizes a handful of his shirt, but the sudden stop to Shouyou’s movements knocks him off balance, and he tips forward, his head solidly hitting the floor where the rug ends.

Tooru plucks him up quickly, his heart caught somewhere in his throat. Suga doesn’t ask him to watch the kids all that often- only when he’s in a pinch, and honestly, Tooru prefers it that way. He adores Shouyou, but the kid has endless energy, and learning how to navigate around Tobio’s seemingly constant prickly mood has been a challenge.

But once in awhile, he doesn’t mind taking the kiddos for an afternoon, just to give Suga a chance to take a walk or run an errand. He’s especially happy to do it after Suga told him he had an appointment with a realtor. The faster the lovebirds find their perfect house, the faster they can move in together, something Tooru wholeheartedly supports.

But now, Suga’s never going to ask him to watch the kids _ever_ again.

“You alright, Shou?” he asks, hoping against all hope that Shouyou will be able to just walk this off, that he didn’t hit his head on any of the old, jagged edges of the living room floor. His heart plummets when Shouyou turns around, face red, eyes already full of tears, a gash across the top of his forehead already beginning to bead with blood.

“Oh, Jesus,” Tooru says, just as Shouyou begins to scream in earnest.

“Oh, _Jesus,_ ” he says again, when he stumbles into the bathroom and plops Shouyou down on the edge of the sink. The blood has begun to trickle down his forehead, and Tooru knows for a fact that any kind of cut in the head area is bound to bleed more, but it doesn’t make the sight any less horrifying.

“Alright. Okay. Okay, Shou, shh, it’s alright. I’ll get you taken care of.”

He wets a wad of toilet paper in the sink, then presses it carefully to Shouyou’s forehead. He shies away from the pressure, but doesn’t scream or kick his feet. Tooru moves as gently as he can, wiping away the blood as Shouyou’s crying whimpers down into snuffles and hiccups.

“We’re almost done,” Tooru says softly. Out of the corner of his eye he notices Tobio lingering at the doorway, one arm still curled around the offending stuffed animal.

“Tobio, where does Suga-chan keep the band aids?”

Tobio tears his eyes away from Shouyou, and takes a hesitant step into the bathroom. Tooru and Shouyou make the small space feel crowded, but the addition of another little frame makes it feel downright stifling. Tooru shuffles as carefully as he can to make space for Tobio, who’s pointing to the top cabinet in the awkward closet jammed into the corner. Tooru opens the door and- really, he shouldn’t be surprised by the mess, but he is- starts digging through cotton balls and old hair products, lotion, soap, and, oh good, condoms. At least his Suga-chan is safe.

“God, Suga,” Tooru mutters under his breath, “would it kill you to neaten up in here?”

He shoves an empty bottle to the side, pulls a washcloth out from a twist of scrunchies, but no band aids. Beside him, Tobio stomps a foot, and when Tooru looks down at him, he reaches up.

Tooru’s so shocked by the gesture that he almost doesn’t pick Tobio up, content to just stare at him in this groundbreaking moment between the two of them.

Luckily, he’s not that much of an idiot, and he scoops Tobio up before he can change his mind. That scowl crosses Tobio’s brow again, but he seems to think better of it, maybe for Shouyou’s sake, and leans into the cupboard. Tooru gets a faceful of stuffed elephant for his troubles, but when Tobio settles back, he has a box of band aids in hand.

“You pulled those out of that mess, Tobio?” Tooru says. Tobio nods sharply, and carefully picks open the lid of the box.

“Damn- I mean! Wow, Tobio. You’ve got a good eye.”

Tending to Shouyou means setting Tobio down, but he sticks close to Tooru’s legs, watching as Tooru carefully sticks the band aid on Shouyou’s forehead.

“I think we deserve ice cream,” Tooru says. Shouyou looks up at him, no longer crying, but his eyes still wet with miserable tears. He nods slowly and lets Tooru pick him up with no fuss, flopping himself bonelessly over Tooru’s shoulder.

Tobio sticks close by as Tooru leads them all out to the kitchen, then digs through Suga’s mess of a freezer until he uncovers the ice pops he’d stashed back there the last time he was over. It’s a little too cold to be eating ice cream, but no one’s complaining. Shouyou even perks up a little in Tooru’s lap, a fine ring of blue popsicle staining his mouth.

Still, he’s very clingy, never straying far from Tooru’s lap or his arms. Tobio, too, is hovering closer than he ever has in Tooru’s presence, like Shouyou’s little shadow. He even cuddles up close against Tooru’s side when he puts in a movie, deciding just this once, it wouldn’t be so bad to break Suga’s rule about the TV.  Shouyou, miraculously, falls asleep almost immediately, and Tobio follows him soon after. Without any little distracting voices to keep him preoccupied, Tooru finds himself nodding off as well. Not even the sound of his favorite movie- a _crime_ that neither one of the boys had seen it- keeps him awake. Two peaceful little souls push him over the edge of drowsiness. He’ll wake an hour later to the sound of Suga taking a picture of the three of them, but for now, he’ll rest easy.


	3. playdate

When Daichi pulls into the driveway and stops the car, he can’t help but look around with wide eyes. This neighborhood is _nice,_ like 2.5 kids and white picket fence nice. It looks like the kind of neighborhood that has block parties and friendly decorating competitions during the holidays, not the kind of neighborhood he imagined Kuroo would live in.

“Nice place,” Suga says as he unbuckles his belt. He looks at Daichi hesitantly, the same kind of wide-eyed wonder Daichi’s wearing reflected in his face.

“I thought you said you’ve been over here before,” Daichi asks.

“Not since he moved here. Shouyou doesn’t really have that many playdates with Kenma. Kuroo’s not really around much, and I’ve only met his partner a couple of times.”

Right, the partner. Daichi frowns, once again surprised by Kuroo’s life. He doesn’t dwell on it, however, because Shouyou starts kicking the back of Daichi’s seat in his eagerness to get out of the car.

“Be careful!” Suga calls after him, as Shouyou bolts ahead to the door once he’s released from his booster seat. He’s too small to ring the doorbell, so he takes to pounding on the door until Daichi can rush forward and still his hands.

“I’m sure they heard us,” Daichi tells him. Shouyou nods his head eagerly and bounces on the step. Tobio clings to Suga’s hand, stepping carefully. He hasn’t let go of the giant coloring book he chose to bring with him since he woke up that morning, determined to share it with Kenma.

The door opens abruptly, and Daichi finds himself looking at a petite man with a sunny smile.

“Hi,” he says, “I’m Tetsurou’s partner, Morisuke. Hi, Suga. You must be Sawamura, then?”

Daichi nods, smiling in return. “Yes. Call me Daichi, please.”

“Alright,” Morisuke nods. His attention falls to Shouyou, who’s almost dancing in excitement. “Hello, Shouyou. It’s nice to see you– well, okay, come on in.”

Suga’s wincing as Shouyou slips through the door, kicking his shoes off in a flurry and bolting further into the house. Morisuke waves him off and opens the door wider, stepping aside so they can file inside. Daichi neatens Shouyou’s shoes and helps Tobio take his off, placing them neatly next to his.

“Are you Tobio?” Morisuke asks. He’s crouched down to Tobio’s level, and he speaks easily. Tobio looks back at Daichi, unsure of how to approach the situation, but Daichi gives him a nod, one which Tobio imitates in answer to Morisuke’s question. “Do you like to color?” he asks, gesturing to the coloring book Tobio holds close. Tobio nods again. “Kenma likes to color, too.”

“It’s to share,” Tobio says shyly.

Morisuke smiles at him. “That’s very nice of you, Tobio. Kenma’s told me a lot about you. I think he’s very excited to have you over today.”

Tobio nods again, and turns his wide eyes back to Daichi. He gives Tobio’s hand a little shake of encouragement, quietly breathing a sigh of relief to himself. This playdate is already easier than Daichi had preemptively prepared for.

“Kenma’s in the living room," Morisuke tells them over his shoulder, leading the way. “Tetsurou’s in the shower. He had a late night last night.”

“Working?” Suga asks.

Morisuke snorts. “If you could call it that. He was ‘brainstorming’ with Bokuto. They usually do that for about an hour before they get distracted by something stupid. I told him a hundred times you were coming over today, but he still staggered home god knows when.”

“We could’ve rescheduled,” Daichi says sheepishly.

“Nah, Kenma was excited the kids were coming over. Tetsurou can deal with his consequences.”

Morisuke leads them through a very cozy, very domestic-looking hallway. Daichi was expecting a neat, almost cold house, based on the manicured lawn and meticulous garden beds outside, but it’s very warm and inviting. Pictures hang on the wall, some of Kenma, some of all three of them, some scribbly pieces of artwork. The rug beneath their feet is worn, fraying in some spots along the edges. Daichi spots boxes stacked in a room off the hallway.

“I have snacks,” Morisuke tells them, as they step into a small, but open living room. “Or not.” Kenma is planted on the couch, a laptop on his lap and a bowl beside him. Shouyou is already picking apple slices out of it, staring at whatever’s playing on the screen just as intently as Kenma is. When Tobio spots them, he darts forward, holding out his coloring book as Kenma’s attention turns towards him.

“Whatever,” Morisuke says, “if they get hungry they’ll tell us. Let me take that computer, Kenma.” Daichi watches the easy motion of Morisuke’s hands as he steps into Kenma’s line of sight and signs. “You can watch Daddy’s videos later. You have friends to play with right now.” Morisuke takes the laptop and snaps it shut, swiveling on his heel to clear a scattering of stuff off the coffee table. “Are you going to color, Tobio? Kenma, why don’t you go get your crayons?”

Kenma slips off the couch and meanders over to a haphazardly-organized shelf, carefully pulling a box from beneath a pile of paper. Next thing he knows, Daichi’s watching all three kids settle down around the coffee table, coloring books and paper and crayons easily shared and heads bent in their careful concentration. He blinks, unsure if he can believe what he’s seeing. He has yet to get Shouyou and Tobio to share as effortlessly as Morisuke just has within three minutes of meeting his son, and he’s not quite sure what to think of that.

“Is Morisuke some kind of miracle worker?” Daichi murmurs to Suga, who has to immediately bite his lip to keep from laughing.

“He’s kind of amazing,” Suga whispers back. He beams, looking at the kids, and slips his arm through Daichi’s.

“Tetsu!” Morisuke hollers up a set of stairs, “they’re here!”

They hear a faint answer back, enough that it spurs Morisuke onward. “Do you want coffee or tea?” he asks, leaving no room for argument. “Or juice, I guess, but the only kind we have is apple.”

“Coffee, _please,”_ Suga says emphatically, as if he hadn’t already had two cups since waking up.

Morisuke laughs, and beckons both of them forward. “Coffee it is, then,” he says. “Follow me.” He leads them to a bright kitchen and gestures towards stools beneath the bar. Daichi watches him stand on tiptoe for mugs. “Tetsu said you’re looking for a place,” Morisuke says as he pours coffee. “Do you want cream and sugar? Daichi, what about you? Oh, good, you’re both purists. Tetsu won’t drink it unless it’s half milk, and what’s the point? Do you have any leads on houses?”

“Not yet,” Suga says. “We’ve looked at a few online, but nothing’s really caught our eye yet.” He graciously accepts the mug Morisuke sets in front of him “Thank you. And I’m on a deadline, so I haven’t had a lot of time to look lately.”

“It’s tough,” Morisuke says. He sips at his own mug, back to the counter behind him. “It took us ages to find this place, but you know Tetsu’s not really around that much, so coordinating time to actually look at places was a nightmare.”

Suga hums into his mug, then smiles. “You must miss him when he’s gone,” he says.

Morisuke’s face crinkles into amusement and he scoffs. “Yeah, right. My house stays so much neater when he’s touring.”

“The love is gone,” Kuroo croons as he steps into the kitchen, barefoot and shower-damp. “Do you know, when we were packing to move, Morisuke found a whole stack of love letters I wrote him in college. This sap saved them for all those years. And you know what he asked me? ‘Is it okay if I throw these out?’ My _love_ letters.”

“There’s coffee,” Morisuke says, uninterested and unaffected by the story Kuroo tells. “And _milk_ , since you don’t drink real coffee.”

“But you know what,” Kuroo says, “I don’t need years-old love letters, because getting the way I take my coffee insulted is sweeter than anything on paper.”

Daichi would almost be alarmed, if the easy way Kuroo and Morisuke tease each other weren’t so obvious. Suga watches from beside him, his hand cradling his chin and a soft smile on his mouth, even as Morisuke and Kuroo continue to pick at each other.

“So, hey,” Kuroo says, after he’s fixed his ‘coffee’ under Morisuke’s scornful eye. “Did I hear you talking about houses? Any leads?”

“We’re still looking,” Daichi says. “It’s slow, but we haven’t given up.”

 _“Hell_ yeah, man. I’ll drink to that.” Kuroo holds his mug out, and Suga delightedly clanks theirs together. Kuroo turns towards Daichi and does the same.

“Good luck,” Morisuke says, “and if we can help, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo agrees. He drops an easy arm over Morisuke’s shoulders. “Anything at all. We’d be happy to help you kids out.”

Daichi rolls his eyes, but he can’t help the smile on his face. An unexpected visit, perhaps, but he finds that he doesn’t mind.


End file.
